


Bitten

by uchiwaka



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Blood Drinking, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Strangers to Lovers, This fic is just one big blowjob reference.. this is my backseat serenade, Vampire Kuroo Tetsurou, Vampires, there's no sex tho!! only like references in jokes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:20:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28388412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uchiwaka/pseuds/uchiwaka
Summary: Bokuto felt doused in cold water for a second time that night, as Kuroo froze against him. He released him all at once and nearly tripped on books backing away from him. Kuroo didn’t stop until he was more than six feet away. Belatedly, Bokuto realizes that it wasn’t the light. Kuroo’s skin really was paler.They stared at each other for seconds that felt likehoursuntil Bokuto stuttered out, “You’re a vampire.” Like that wasn’t the most astute observation of the last century.Or the moral implications of vampire vegetarianism
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kuroo Tetsurou, Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma
Comments: 5
Kudos: 69
Collections: Haikyuu!! Urban Fantasy Bang





	Bitten

**Author's Note:**

> for all the accidental twilight references, i'm so sorry lol i do think it might add a little spice tho
> 
> this is for a bang and it's the first time i've ever been finished ahead of time lmaoo freyja and i were just sitting in anticipation !! HUUUGE thank you to my wonderful artist [Freyja ](https://www.instagram.com/sketchyspirit/) (I'll link her insta post at the end!), Lauren ofc, and the Bokuroo Discord !
> 
> i really hope u guys enjoy !!! the end was so much fun to write

Bokuto sighed and eased into his typical seat towards the middle of his history class. He barely restrained the urge to lay his head on the desk; instead, he stretched out his thighs as much as he could in the limited space, relishing in the sweet, sweet burn from leg day yesterday. History wasn’t his least favorite subject of all time, math took the cake for that one, but it was a close second. Lecture-based classes just weren’t as interactive as they needed to be to hold his attention. 

Of course, there was also the added fact that he was an idiot and signed up to take this class at the ass-crack of dawn. _Ughh._ Running was one thing. Sitting in a chair for an hour and a half and pretending like he was paying attention was another. 

Trying to distract himself from every cell in his body begging him to close his eyes, he pulled out his laptop from his bag and worked on booting it up. It’d just started showing the loading screen when his professor walked in, always the last person to come in. Which barely even mattered.

They were in their last month of class and the numbers had yet to look like those of the first day. Honestly, he gets it, because the class was so damn boring, but he was so jealous that people could just not show up and still get a good grade. He was only paying attention about half the time but if he didn’t have whatever pieced together notes he’d made to drag him through the class by the leg... He shuddered, just imagining if he wasn’t in the room to suck up any residual knowledge off the walls.

“Hey,” a muffled voice from beside him called out. “Did he go over the project last class?”

The kid beside him, whose head was currently resting face-down on his keyboard, was a perfect example of the kind of person he was jealous of. Kozume Kenma was almost never in class and somehow managed to get the best grades out of all of them. If anything, Kenma was more reluctant about doing the project _at all,_ but he’d still agreed to come to today’s class and work on it with him. 

Bokuto was apprehensive when he’d seen that he was in his group at first, unsure of if they’d be sharing the same brain cell when it came to the class material, but Kenma had quickly proved him wrong. (After a lot of lowkey prying over text, Bokuto found out that Kenma’s boyfriend had been a pretty poor student, and they’d started dating after he’d agreed to tutor him. Apparently, his boyfriend’s grades still weren’t that great, but at least now he wasn’t failing.)

“Yeah. We’re presenting it in front of the class, and we only have a few weeks to work on it.”

Kenma smoothly turned his head and rested his cheek against the keyboard, leaving Bokuto with no doubts on just how he felt about that. He knew the tired glare he was being subjected to was more at the behest of having to do it at all, and not necessarily at him, but that only made it slightly less intimidating. 

“I promise to do all the presenting,” he said solemnly. It was really the content he was way more worried about. The vampire unit was apparently one of the last ones they did in history, given that so many people tended to enjoy it. Bokuto would enjoy it a lot more if he knew what the hell a sanguinarium was.

Kenma eased up and leaned back in the rickety chair with a loud squeak. At this point, their professor had begun his morning lesson on the numbing and healing properties of vampire saliva, and Bokuto was just about losing his grip on consciousness. Damn. He really should’ve gone for that run this morning.

Beside him, Kenma seemed to be in a worse state. He was sitting in an upright position and could maybe convince someone in the front that he was awake if, you know, his eyes were open. Every few minutes he would stretch and look moderately awake before his shoulders would slump back to a downward position and his eyelids would slowly follow.

He watched the dance for a couple of cycles bemusedly before his curiosity erupted. “Why’d you choose to take this class so early? You, uh, don’t seem like a morning type.”

Kenma gave absolutely no hint that he was listening, his breath evening out the longer he sat in the chair. It was actually pretty impressive given that these chairs were quite possibly one of the least comfortable surfaces he’d sat on in his life. 

After a couple beats of silence that had Bokuto debating whether or not he should actually start paying attention to the lecture, Kenma muttered, “I work in the afternoon so I had to make _sacrifices_ ,” hissing out the last word.

Bokuto chuckled at the viciousness in his tone and turned back to the lecture. Kenma was definitely going to be out for the rest of the class and, in all honesty, he should probably jot something down. 

By the end of class, Bokuto had counted every row of seats twice and the margins of his notes were filled with song lyrics. Kenma woke up just as class ended like he had an internal alarm set for the second their professor closed the presentation. Bokuto waited for Kenma to at least look a little bit more awake before he pounced, desperate to know when his schedule was free.

“You can just come by my job,” Kenma said evenly, unaffected by Bokuto’s pleading as he shoved his unused laptop in his bag. He hadn’t turned it on it at all the entire unit. Sometimes he’d watch Netflix and scoot the screen over, but more often than not it was used as a pillow. “I’ll text you the address.”

Before Bokuto could ask any follow-up questions, like what boss allows their employees to do other work on the job, Kenma was already on his way out the door, presumably to sleep through another class. Well then. 

Bokuto figured he’d follow Kenma’s lead and packed his abysmal notes up, wondering if it’d be smart to grab coffee before his next class. He’d be vibrating on a different plane but at least he’d be awake.

~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ~

Bokuto didn’t know what he expected when he got the text from Kenma yesterday, but he was certain this was not it. The store -- _Neko Majou_ \-- was fairly small, neatly tucked between a few larger buildings in a quieter spot just outside the city. And from what it looked like on the outside, he could see it was a curio shop. A magic one. 

Which was fucking _cool_. He knew a few people that got spooked out by that stuff, but Bokuto had always felt instinctively drawn to it. Like the rush you get when a train _whooshes_ in front of you at the station or when a plane taxis and you can feel the engine shaking, chattering your teeth. 

Magical tomes and vampire relics -- _real_ ones, at least -- were mainly passed down through word of mouth and familial connections. The community was tight-knit, more out of necessity than desire. Especially the vampires. It was said that everyone held some sort of magical affinity within them, some more than others, but vampirism was born. Bred. His professor said that they’d been hunted to near extinction, and many had to find new ways to adapt (see, he did pay attention sometimes).

He hadn’t thought about magic like that since he was a kid; it’d always been more of a pipe dream, something you imagined a life of before falling asleep.

Anyway, Bokuto felt like a kid in a candy store when he walked in, feeling the low whir of magic pulsating through the walls. There was a very new but unmistakable tingle in his veins that rushed like a current from bookshelf to bookshelf. And they were well stocked in bookshelves.

He’d never seen so many magical items in one place. Cauldrons were stacked up in the back left of the room with a mini shelving for wands near it. A glass door in front of him led to a mini garden filled with herbs. He had to weave around carts filled with plasma pack supplements. Bokuto was vaguely aware that he was standing in the middle of the store grinning like an idiot. 

Up front by the cash register sat Kenma with a sturdy textbook layed out in front of him, lazily flipping through pages and stroking a bright-eyed black cat perched beside him. 

“Do you need a minute?” he drawled, not bothering to look up from his book. The cat next to him did though, the oddly human eyes staring a hole through his head.

Bokuto walked up to the counter bashfully, noticing Kenma was wearing a bright blood-red apron with the store’s name on it. “Uh, no, sorry. It’s just- the store’s really fucking cool.” 

Kenma snorted and looked up long enough to nod to the stool beside where Bokuto was standing. He sat down and continued, “How long have you been working here?”

“A while,” he hummed noncommittally. Kenma didn’t offer any additional information so Bokuto decided not to ask for any, shoving down his many, many questions and pulling out his laptop.

Kenma followed his example and pushed away the book he’d been flicking through. “We’ve got a few books on vampires so I thought it’d be better to do the project here.”

 _A few,_ he said. There were about three sections behind him dedicated to vampire vegetarianism _alone_. A smiling anthropomorphic cow holding hands with Count Dracula sat atop the closest one.

“I’ll share what I have so far,” Kenma added, sending him a document that was completely blank save for one bullet point that said _teef._ Given that all Bokuto was bringing was a notebook full of Megan Thee Stallion lyrics, he figured they were in good shape.

Maybe they’d be better if he could, you know, focus. Would Kenma get pissed if he tried to fit himself in that cauldron? “Hey, Kenma-”

“Hey, Kenma-”

Hm, that was definitely not him.

Bokuto startled a little and spun around, surprised to hear his sentence mirrored by someone behind him.

A, um, very attractive someone. With bright brown eyes that were light enough Bokuto could watch as his pupils dilated; fleetingly, Bokuto realized there was red in there, tinged at the edges of the irises that slowly disappeared. His nose flared and his hands clenched by his sides like he was unsure of what to do with them. Or like he knew what he wanted to do with them but decided he shouldn’t.

“Oh,” he said, still staring at Bokuto, and yeah, he was very attractive. Did Bokuto mention that already? Like, _very._ The man licked his lips and Bokuto swallowed hard. 

“Kuroo. Did you need something?” Kenma asked from behind them. 

Kuroo was _still_ staring at Bokuto, voraciously, like he hadn’t heard Kenma at all. His gaze had moved downward, pinned to the exposed skin under Bokuto’s jawline. When he stumbled forward, it was Bokuto’s turn to forcibly keep his hands to himself.

Did he remember that they were in public? Yes, he did. But. Looking around and worrying about other people would require him to fixate his gaze somewhere other than Kuroo’s bottom lip, when every so often his tongue would peek out and _graaaze_ across it, teasing Bokuto with how soft and pretty pink it was,before disappearing again, sometimes pulling his bottom lip in with it.

Was anyone else giving him that joy? No, they weren’t.

Bokuto stuttered on an inhale, fighting to remain in his seat and ignore the part of him that _desperately_ wanted those lips on his. When Kuroo spoke, it came out even more breathy than the last time. “You smell good.” 

Did his mouth just naturally pout like that? “Uh.”

The man blinked slowly at him and stepped out of his space, the warm eyes still surveying his face and lingering over certain spots. “What’s your name?”

What was his name again?

“Kuroo.” 

Nah, that’s not it. Wait…

“Shoyo just texted me, and if we’re not finished with this project before he gets here, I’ll kill you. Flirt on your own time.”

Kuroo looked at Kenma like he’d just realized he was there. Hints of heat splotched in his cheeks, but he looked more put-out than anything. “I put up with a lot worse from you and the shrimp!”

Kenma barely glanced up from his phone. “You could leave.”

Kuroo’s pout deepened, and he looked seconds away from draping over the counter. Scratching his burning cheek, Bokuto turned back to the _teef_ page. “Kenmaaaa. I should fire you for that.”

“I own the store,” Kenma deadpanned. 

Bokuto snapped his head up. That is very new information. “Wait, you own the store? You didn’t tell me!”

Kenma looked wistfully at the textbooks in front of him. “Because I knew you would ask me a lot of questions.”

Bokuto shifted in his seat. He _did_ have a lot of questions. But he thinks it’s pretty reasonable to have a few questions about it. But, fine, he won’t ask them. For now.

Kuroo’s head slipping over Bokuto’s shoulder to eye the notes in front of them might have shut him up faster than his own brain processes, though. “What’s your project about, anyway?”

“Vampires,” Kenma said, having dropped his phone in favor of the Google Doc. These bullet points were slightly more academic though. He eyed a particularly scathing one about Texas Toast. Slightly.

“Hm.” If the ripples down the side of his neck were any indication, Kuroo wasn’t looking at the document anymore. “Sorry, I can’t help. I don’t really know that much about vampires.”

Bokuto tilted his head to the opposite side to look at him. “But you work at a store filled with vampire stuff.”

Kuroo waved his hand back and forth. “Circumstantial evidence. But I do think every project needs a healthy distraction, so I’m very willing to fulfill that role.”

Kenma didn’t look up from his computer. “He’s half an hour away.”

“Or I can grab you guys a couple books!” And with that, he disappeared down the nearest row of bookshelves, leaving him and Kenma to their own.

The project didn’t take as long as he’d expected it to, but that was probably mostly in part due to Kenma’s reserve bank of vampire knowledge. He expected that the majority of weight-pulling he’d be doing would come in the form of speaking it aloud in class (and maybe not in moving pictures around so that it looked better).

It’s not that he was completely clueless as to what they were doing, it’s just that Kenma was actually really good at it. Better than he and Kuroo, at least, who spent the majority of the time playing Chopsticks.

They were just wrapping up their last slide when Kenma’s boyfriend came in through the door and effectively ended their project time. He managed to introduce himself as Hinata Shouyou before they both left to start closing down the store.

“Date night,” Kuroo explained to him, doodling what looked like the Sesame Street Count into Bokuto’s notebook. Once he finished adding details to the drops of blood from his imaginary fangs, Kuroo handed back to him.

He put the book back into his bag. “Cute,” he grinned, zipping it back up and watching them swing their laced hands back and forth.

Kuroo scrunched up his nose and led him out the door. “In small doses.”

Outside, it had just started to get dark. The sun setting behind the mountains and the horizon setting everything in a cool lilac.

“Y’know, I never caught your name.”

“Oh. It’s Bokuto. Bokuto Koutaro.” The setting sun darkened the world a bit quicker as Kenma flicked off lights in the store. Bokuto shoved his hands into his pockets. “And you’re Kuroo.” Like he could forget.

“Yeah.” Kuroo leaned against the door, his eyes glittering. Hinata’s laugh leaked through the door and into the evening between them. “Kuroo Tetsurou.”

… 

When he got back to his dorm room, he noticed a phone number scribbled into the bottom of the page. 

~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ~

Bokuto switched from a jog to a lazy strut as he neared the store again, shoving his empty bag higher up on his back. His heartbeat thumped in his neck and down into his chest, and he blamed it on the punishing sun above him, higher in the sky than when he usually came with Kenma. But he didn’t have class today and he kind of wanted to flaunt his unemployed-ness in Kuroo’s face.

He glanced up at the telephone wires before ducking in the store, their cooling system an incredible reprieve.

(Last time, a crow flew off the line and into the store with him as Bokuto threw open the doors. Before he could apologize profusely for not paying close enough attention, the crow literally transformed into a bashful Hinata. Right in front of his eyes.

Bokuto nearly passed out due to a spike in blood pressure, and Kenma had to limit the number of questions asked to 30. 

He hasn’t trusted Kuroo’s cat since.)

Kuroo sat behind the counter this time and didn’t look up from petting Kuro, the black cat perched in his favorite spot. Bokuto’s begun to think he’s fake and has simply hallucinated every slow blink. “Bokuto.”

“Kuroo,” Bokuto said, unsure to which one he was addressing. Those eyes were starting to look _real_ sardonic.

“Kenma’s not here.”

Bokuto fought to keep a neutral face, but he probably looked as guilty as he felt. “I know.”

Bokuto shimmied into the seat across from him on the counter. Kuro took one look at him and moved closer, letting Bokuto give ample head and ear scratches. The cute cat twitched his head to the side and prostrated itself, chest rumbling with purrs. Bokuto was careful to stray away from his stomach (he’d made that mistake once).

With his hands free, Kuroo propped up an arm and rested his head in his palm.

“Now, did you come for anything other than to steal my cat away from me?”

Bokuto’s cheeks stretched in a smile, excited to pass off the excuse he’d been thinking about the entire trip here as nonchalantly as possible. _Well, actually…_ “Well, actually, I came for a book on vampires. I was in the area, and I couldn’t stop thinking about our project, you know?”

The cheek not resting on his fist tilted up in amusement. “You must be very serious about history.”

“It’s my favorite subject,” he blurted.

Kuroo hummed, his fingertips drumming on the side of his mouth. 

Not to sound gay but Bokuto loved the way Kuroo looked at him. Kuroo looked at him like he saw the big picture but was still curious about the shading. It wasn’t a man standing in front of a work of art, in awe of how it got done, it was a man looking at a painting and marvelling over the smaller characters drawn just behind the trees, smiling and holding hands. Or the depth in impasto, wanting to run his fingers against every raised edge.

An endless, flowery Where’s Waldo.

It was in the details. And Kuroo looked at him like he loved all of them.

“Well," he mused, straightening up and glancing towards the endless rows behind him, “I might have a couple of books on vampires.”

Bokuto followed Kuroo through the back of the store, and barely refrained from skipping. This was his best excuse yet! Coming had really been a spur of the moment decision, and he owes it all to Kenma letting it slip that he and Hinata would be out all day.

“Looking for anything in particular?” he asked, briefly perusing the spines of the novels before turning back to him. 

Bokuto thought about their project (that was very done and sitting in a folder on his computer, waiting to be presented tomorrow). “I don’t know. Something about their daily routine? Like their diet or something?”

Kuroo blinked at him. “So blood.”

Bokuto balked. “Is that all vampires eat?” No meat? Like none at all?? What a sad, sad life. …Half-life? Death?

He paused his eulogy to vampire tastebuds to frown at Kuroo, tilting his head in confusion. “Wait, I thought you didn’t know anything about vampires?” 

Actually, it wouldn’t surprise him any if Kuroo had just lied about it to get out of helping them with their project. He did think it odd that they had so many books about vampires lying around and Kuroo hadn’t read _any_ of them.

“I, uh, have a friend that’s a vampire,” Kuroo blurted, averting his eyes. 

Sick! That’s _way_ cooler. “Really? That’s so cool!”

Kuroo nodded solemnly and leaned back against the bookshelf. A potted plant sat atop this abnormally smaller one, the vine nearly tickling his cheek. Kuroo swatted it away and when it swung back, it tucked itself behind his head. “And I know for a fact that vampires only drink blood.”

“That must suck.”

“Oh yeah, it really bites,” Kuroo grinned impishly. “Plus, blood’s in short supply nowadays.”

Hm? “Is the birth-rate down or something?”

“No, doof, no one’s exactly lining up to get their blood sucked.” Kuroo rolled his eyes good-naturedly and he reached out to play with another tendril of the plant that lay slightly far off, avoiding Bokuto’s eyes to examine the leaves. Despite not being close to any sun, the plant seemed to be flourishing. 

“Oh. How does your friend get their blood then?” 

“He doesn’t.” Bokuto must’ve looked really stricken because Kuroo continued, “Vampires can last a few months without it but eventually the body starts to shut down. Kinda like hibernation but worse. Think Gothel at the end of Rapunzel.”

Bokuto frowned. That didn’t sound fun at all. Actually, that sounded really terrible. “If your friend needs help, I wanna help him! I’ve got blood to spare.” With that, Bokuto grinned and flexed an arm. “I don’t want him to get pushed off a roof and turn to dust.”

Kuroo laughed and faced Bokuto head on again, allowing Bokuto a front-page view of his smile and how it brightened his whole face. “I’ll let him know you’re worried.”

Bokuto rocked closer to Kuroo, curious as to how far Kuroo’s vampire knowledge extended, his original plan completely abandoned. “Question. How far off was Twilight with the whole powers thing?”

“Very,” Kuroo smirked. “I’d say the only superpower they have is that their canines grow by themselves.”

Sigh. Disappointment. The fangs though… Hot. 

Kuroo pushed off the bookcase and swayed into Bokuto, standing nearly toe-to-toe. Kuroo let a beat pass between them, his bright eyes examining his face. The Look was back on Kuroo’s face, unmistakable hunger and _want_ lining the edges that made Bokuto lick his lips.

Mischievous smile still on his face, Kuroo reached towards Bokuto’s face and right above his head, righting a sagging piece of spiked hair. “Vampires _are_ really sensitive to smell, though. So you’d probably be their worst nightmare,” he purred. 

Kuroo’s tone made it hard to tell if it was meant to be an insult.

Bokuto frowned but still found himself swallowing harshly, crossing his eyes to watch Kuroo straighten the hair and following his hand all the way back down. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Kuroo’s eyes gleamed a muddy reddish-brown, his smirk ticking up one side of his face. “The jury is still out on that one, I think.”

It felt like every time Bokuto looked back, he found a different color. He was particularly fond of the flecks of gold; he’d have wondered if the proximity wasn’t just mirroring his own if he didn’t find himself staring at Kuroo’s eyes as often as he does. “What about their eye color?” 

Kuroo laughed and pulled away. “Bokuto, what have you been doing on your project this entire time?”

“Putting the pictures in,” he said honestly. When that only made Kuroo laugh harder, he rushed to defend himself, “But Kenma says they’re good pictures!”

“I’m sure they are! Very informative.”

“Fuck off,” he scowled, ignoring how Kuroo’s grin made the corners of his mouth twitch.

“Well,” Kuroo said, sidestepping Bokuto and the bookshelf to face towards the garden. He turned to look at Bokuto over his shoulder, “if you’ve satisfied your natural curiosity about a vampire’s inner workings, I could use your help making potions.”

“I don’t even work here!”

“I’ll let you try some.”

He barely had to think about it. “Deal. But only if I get to shapeshift and scare Hinata when he comes back.”

Kuroo grinned. “Way ahead of you.”

~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ~

He actually had no idea what the business hours were for Kenma’s store. He figured he’d worry about that later, when he inevitably tries to open the door and it’s locked, but maybe it should’ve been more on his radar, he thought, as he nearly fell to his death tripping over a rogue box of books.

Kuro the cat blinked at him from behind the register, his eyes visible even in the dim lighting of an obviously starting-to-close-down building. He wondered if that’s something both Kuroos have in common.

As if by magic (heh), Bokuto was graced with both light and said other Kuroo, who was quickly identified as the man behind Bokuto’s near death. Kuroo shuffled in with a heavy box to accompany the numerous other heavy boxes near Bokuto’s feet, and stuck his head out from above the box to tilt his head at Bokuto.

Offhandedly, he realized he’d never seen Kuroo surprised to see him until now.

He looked tired, actually. But in the ‘I just slept for 18 hours and I’m just now rolling out of bed’ way. Except Kuroo looked more like he’d been asleep for a month and, upon waking up, had been asked to carry a box of books across the store and nearly kill Bokuto with it. 

Also his hair was curly.

Bokuto’s brain was functioning a normal amount.

“Bokuto.” Kuroo lowered the box a bit. His arms began to shake a little and he brought it back up. “What’re you doing here?”

“Kenma invited me over. Said he needed help with something.”

Kuroo lifted an eyebrow at him warily over the flaps of the box. “Like school-related?”

Bokuto thought about it. Actually, the text was pretty vague. “I don’t know. But he said it was urgent, and I already owe him big time for the project.”

“Hm.” Kuroo shifted the box in his arms. “Well, have fun. He’s upstairs. Follow the sound of canoodling.”

At first, Bokuto wasn’t sure how on earth that was going to work, but the farther up the stairs he went, the clearer it became. Hinata’s laugh was incredibly unmistakable and led him straight to the _canoodling_ Kuroo was talking about.

Hinata was laid across the couch, his head propped up on the arm, and Kenma was draped over him, his face squished on top of Hinata’s chest. Hinata had a controller in both hands but Kenma could only hold his in one, given that his left arm was indisposed.

So, decidedly not in any immediate danger. Unless _proximity to cuteness_ could be labelled as life-threatening, and Bokuto thinks the jury is still out on that one. 

When Bokuto closes the door behind him, Hinata turns around to look and smiles his typical life-ending smile. “Bokuto, you’re here! Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know,” he says for the second time tonight. “Kenma texted me that he needed me to come for something. H’ said it was important.”

Kenma grunted but it was muffled by Hinata’s shirt. “It is important. The game Shoyo wants to play is three-player and Kuroo’s being a loser.”

Hinata freed up a hand to run his fingers through Kenma’s hair, playing with some of the golder pieces, and Kenma abandoned his controller altogether, burying his face in his chest and pulling Hinata in tighter. He could’ve sworn he’d heard Kenma purring.

“You weren’t busy, were you?” Hinata asked him, his big eyes turning back to look at him. Who could honestly deny this kid anything.

Bokuto shook his head and Hinata beamed, shaking his controller at Bokuto. “Since you’re already here, we should play! Kenma’s really particular about his controller so you can use mine.”

Bokuto took the one Hinata handed to him and sat on the floor in front of him, handing Hinata Kenma’s dropped controller. One look behind him, and he realized Kenma was already out cold. And honestly, Hinata looked right behind him.

Yawning, Hinata booted up the fighting game he and Kenma had been playing. Loosely, he explained the rules to the game (which involved a lot of onomatopoeia, but Bokuto got the gist). In the end, they only got around to playing a few rounds before Hinata inevitably knocked out, in the middle of a game no less (it probably said something that he was doing poorly up until that point).

Bokuto sighed and shut the game down, taking Kenma’s precariously placed controller off the arm of the couch and to charge with the other one. In his sleep, Kenma had shifted upwards and buried his nose in Hinata’s shoulder, their legs wrapped around each other’s so tightly, it’ll probably be a hassle to stand up once they’re awake.

Bokuto pushed aside the thought of potentially going back to his dorm and quietly slipped down the stairs, intent on bothering Kuroo some more.

It wasn’t very hard to find him; the sound of dropping boxes was decisively louder than canoodling. 

The number of boxes by the door had dwindled. Instead, they piled up near the back of the store, like Kuroo had decided to take them out of the backroom in two trips (there was a pun in there somewhere -- _yes,_ he was still mad about the attempted murder). 

Bokuto peeked his head around one of the larger bookshelves and caught Kuroo shoveling books into the empty spaces on the shelves. “Damn, that’s a good angle.”

Kuroo tossed a book at his head without turning around. So he wasn’t even disguising his intent to kill anymore. Wow.

“To think you can witness Kenma and Hinata firsthand and still have the energy to flirt.”

Bokuto grinned and picked the book up from the floor. “What can I say, I’m a romantic.”

At that, Kuroo turned to look at him. His typically bronze skin paled under the spotty overhead lights, making him look sicker than his eyes said he was. Or maybe he was just good at faking it. “Make yourself useful and grab me that box over there.”

 _God,_ his eyes. Bokuto thinks he could write five epic poems and an analytical essay on the way they look under these terrible fluorescent lights _alone_. Every crinkle and slope and shine. Nodding jerkily, he shimmies past him (very much _not_ thinking about the brush of their shoulders) and gets the box in question. 

Kuroo has him standing directly beside him feeding him the books and Bokuto gets a very up-close view of Kuroo’s face given that there’s nowhere else to really look. Which is very good and very very bad because Kuroo is the only thing he wants to see which is why he desperately needs somewhere else to look. Bokuto makes do with the empty bookshelf in front of him.

Kuroo cleared his throat and grabbed the book from the very top. These shelves were _so_ clean. Does someone dust it everyday or is their air circulation just that good? 

Kuroo cleared his throat again to speak this time. “So what did Kenma want?”

“Uh, he and Hinata were playing this game and they wanted another person. But then they both fell asleep, so.”

Kuroo looked at him incredulously, a cute smile peeking up at the corner of his lips that Bokuto wanted to kiss off. “That’s what was so important?”

Even Kuroo’s _nose_ was cute. “Yeah, well,” Bokuto mumbled, scratching his warm cheek. “Love makes you do weird things.”

Kuroo laughed heartily and Bokuto met his eyes, the hand holding the book perched awkwardly between them. “A romantic, huh?”

Bokuto nodded and jerked his hand a little higher, making Kuroo misjudge the height of the book and brush his long fingers against Bokuto’s own. 

Bokuto jerked like he was dunked into a bath of ice water. 

His hands were _cold._ Like, verging on frostbite. 

Bokuto dropped the heavy box of books on his foot and before he could shout any form of exclamation, he was promptly shoved against the opposing bookshelf so hard a few books came flying off the upper shelves.

_Holy shit. Holyshitholyshitholyshit._

Kuroo’s ice-cold palm was still pressed to the top of his chest, the tips of his fingers tickling the bits of his collarbones his shirt didn’t cover. If he thought Kuroo’s eyes were wild before, _fuck_ was he wrong. 

His dilated pupils were feral, drinking up every inch of Bokuto’s face. His mouth was very much open and that. Those were. Oh my _god,_ those were fangs. Very pretty, very pointy ones that grew and grew the longer Bokuto stared at them. 

Kuroo used his grip on his shirt to pull him in closer and bury his head in the crook of Bokuto’s shoulder, inhaling deeply and using his nose to tilt Bokuto’s chin up higher. Every puffed exhale had Bokuto squirming, shivers rippling down his sides.

“God, you smell so _good_ ,” he rasped out, his hands moving down and gripping Bokuto’s sides, pulling him so close every inch of their body was pressed together; Kuroo’s wispy curls tickled his jaw and he felt his own racing heartbeat reverberate through Kuroo’s chest. Bokuto could feel the warm, wet heat from Kuroo’s mouth as his fangs skimmed over his jugular.

Not able to swallow down a low groan, Bokuto jerked his head back against the bookshelf, knocking off a few more books. “Kuroo-”

More rumble than growl, Kuroo resoundedly ignored him, his fingertips pressing bruises into Bokuto’s head.

Licking his lips, he tried again. “Kuroo.”

Bokuto felt doused in cold water for a second time that night, as Kuroo froze against him. He released him all at once and nearly tripped on books backing away from him. Kuroo didn’t stop until he was more than six feet away. Belatedly, Bokuto realizes that it wasn’t the light. Kuroo’s skin really was paler.

They stared at each other for seconds that felt like _hours_ until Bokuto stuttered out, “You’re a vampire.” Like that wasn’t the most astute observation of the last century.

Kuroo raked his hands through his hair and dragged them back down his face. He stayed like that when he whispered, “I think you should go.”

Bokuto stared at him, brain still a little fuzzy. “But-”

“Go. Please.”

So he left.

~ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ~

It was a feat in itself that he lasted 24 hours before combusting. It could really be argued that he didn’t.

He’d been up all night… _thinking._ About _things_. Things like how fucking sharp Kuroo’s fangs were. They had just managed to graze his neck, nowhere deep enough to pierce it, but just enough to leave trails of red lining the underneath of his jaw.

Bokuto brushed his fingertips against the raised skin. So feather-light, it made him shiver; picturing Kuroo doing the same thing with his tongue made him shiver harder. _Fuck._

He bumped his head against the brick wall behind him, half expecting books to fall down. The shock came less from finding out Kuroo was a vampire and more from how _hot_ he found it. The desire to have Kuroo’s mouth on him that had never really gone away found itself back in the forefront of his mind.

Yesterday, though… He just couldn’t shake the feeling that it hadn’t felt like… Kuroo. When Kuroo had pulled back to look at him, all he could see was a thin band of red swallowed up by huge pupils. He’d looked hungry and desperate; Bokuto’s hips were still a little sore from where he’d squeezed them. He remembered what he’d said about his friend not getting any blood. Bokuto wondered if Kuroo was having the same problem.

But he’d made it clear he didn’t wanna see Bokuto again, so. That was that.

Ish. 

The whole situation had him confused, so he figured the best idea was to get a second opinion. Hence why he was waiting outside his history building in the cold like an idiot.

He didn’t wanna, uh, _out_ Kuroo, but Kenma really was his best bet. Catching him before walking into their last lecture, Bokuto pushed off the wall and pulled a reluctant Kenma into a quieter area just outside the building. 

“Kenma. I have a problem. Well, it’s more of a _hypothetical_ problem that my _friend_ has-”

“Bokuto.”

Bokuto paused with his mouth open. Kenma’s apathetic face gave nothing away as usual, but Bokuto had a feeling Kenma knew where he was going with it. He just decided to spit it out. “It’s Kuroo. We got in a fight, sort of, and I think- Well, I wanna help him. And he won’t let me.”

Silently, Kenma turned to look at the last few of their classmates traipse into the lecture, then the sky filtering in through the trees above them, and then to Bokuto’s face. Plainly, he said, “I know.”

Bokuto wanted to ask what, exactly, he knew, but he hesitated.

Kenma sighed and buried his chin further in his jacket as the wind started to pick up. “Look. I thought Kuroo would’ve told you a while ago and asked you to help himself. I kept inviting you over, thinking that- Whatever. Kuroo’s stubborn. And stupid. If you really wanna help him, you should just tell him.”

Bokuto couldn’t hold it back anymore. “Wait, we’re both talking about Kuroo being a vampire, right?” Ah, fuck. What if Kenma didn’t know?

Kenma levelled him with a look 30 years older than them. “Yes. Now hurry up and leave, I wanna get to class.”

“Leave?”

“Yeah, Kuroo’s still at the shop. Do your best,” he said, nodding and then turning to leave.

Bokuto watched Kenma only take a few more steps closer to their class before pausing and turning around.

Hands still in his pockets, Kenma tilted his head, considering his words, before speaking. “Kuroo will convince himself he doesn’t need it if it’s easier without it. He cares about you, so don’t let him fuck it up.” And with that he turned back around and left.

Bokuto could only stand there for a few more seconds before turning and running towards the nearest train. He had no idea what he was going to do but he knew there was no way in hell he was going to give up seeing Kuroo again because of some stupid vampire thing.

And okay, yes, maybe he had a super small tiny crush on Kuroo, but he wasn’t going to make this about that. This wasn’t about a crush, this was about helping his friend.

Bokuto only had to wait a few minutes before the next train, booking it all the way from the station to their store. He panted out translucent breaths in the frosty air, flinging open the door to the toasty store. All thoughts of the freezing weather were gone from his mind when he noticed Kuroo in the middle of the store, sweeping around the displays.

For the first time, Kuro the Cat wasn’t anywhere in his immediate vision, and it made Kuroo stand out even more in the empty bookstore. Bokuto only had a split second to admire the line of Kuroo’s shoulders and the soft wisps of his hair curled over his ears before his mouth blurted out the first thing that came to his mind. “You’re here.”

Kuroo snapped his head over to him, his eyebrows shooting up at first in surprise at seeing anyone this early in the morning and then of seeing _Bokuto._ A beat passed as Bokuto’s sentence caught up with him, and he coughed out a laugh as though he hadn’t been expecting the sound to come out at all. “You say that like I died.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he joked back, falling into their rhythm and realizing after how true it actually was.

Kuroo caught on to the sheepish look on Bokuto’s face and sighed, resting the broom against the wall in an empty corner. He stared at it for a couple breaths before peering back at him. “Why’re you here, Bo?”

Bokuto followed him further into the store and hesitated near the counter. It’s not that he didn’t know the answer to the question, as if he couldn’t tell with every pang of desire he felt when Kuroo looked at him or the rush of excitement he felt every time he came around Kuroo, constantly finding reasons to be near him. And this was his chance to show Kuroo how much he cared about him. 

Bokuto steeled himself, taking in a deep breath. “I want you to eat me.”

“What.”

“Er, drink me. Drink from me? You know what I mean. Stick your teeth in my neck.”

Kuroo blinked at him a few times, squinting and studying his face. Bokuto nearly buried his face in his hands; at this rate, Kuroo probably half expected him to break out in a tap dance. “Uh huh. As enticing as you’ve made that sound, I don’t drink from people anymore.”

Bokuto huffed and crossed his arms. “And why not! Kuroo, you look dead.”

“I _am_ dead,” Kuroo snorted.

“Dead _er._ ”

Kuroo grimaced and faced the vegan Dracula. It was hard not to, given how huge it was. He paused for a second, lost in thought. When he spoke, it was quiet but sure. “I hurt someone I care about once and I just don’t do it anymore.”

“I trust you,” Bokuto declared, and when Kuroo turned his head he was already looking at him.

He knew that Kuroo’s feelings weren’t cut-and-dry, but Bokuto didn’t say it to minimize them. He said it because he did. He trusted Kuroo’s kindness and honesty and sweet, sweet ass. 

Kuroo laughed shortly, this one much harsher than the last. “That makes one of us,” he muttered. 

Watching Kuroo walk away, Bokuto could barely form a thought before shedding his jacket immediately. If getting naked was what would convince Kuroo he trusted him, he was prepared to make that sacrifice. The shirt would’ve come off next if Kuroo hadn’t spun back around, nose flaring. “Don’t.”

Wait, no, his scarf was in the way. That was going to have to go first. “Kuroo, _I trust you._ And I want you to.”

“And if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll leave.” Bokuto met Kuroo’s eyes and the slight splotches of red underneath them, like whatever blood that was left in his body was working overtime. Bokuto caught the tremble in Kuroo’s fingers before he shoved them into his pockets. “But I think you want to.”

Not looking away, Bokuto crossed the distance between them and stopped inches away from Kuroo’s face, enough that he could see every inch of Kuroo’s beautiful, tense face, his eyes heated and shining. The closer Bokuto got, the more it seemed Kuroo didn’t know where to focus on; only making it worse, Bokuto rocked in a bit more and cocked his head to the side, as though he were leaning in for a kiss, perfectly baring the left side of his neck.

“Kuroo, please,” he mumbled, his eyelids already fluttering closed at their proximity.. 

Silence followed and Bokuto could hear Kuroo’s heaved breaths, shallow and stuttering like he was forcing them in and out of his nose. Fingertips graced the exposed skin of his neck, tracing over the veins there ever so gently, and Bokuto tilted his head further, refusing to break eye contact. 

Kuroo swallowed and his other hand cupped Bokuto’s jawline, rubbing circles into the nape of his neck. “I… If I hurt you-”

“You won’t.”

Kuroo tugged a bit at his hair and shot him a more serious look. “If I _do,_ tell me. Please.”

“Always.”

He nodded jerkily and looked away, glancing around the room. “You should sit. I don’t want you to pass out.”

Before he could protest, Kuroo grabbed him by the arm and pulled him through the bookshelves, weaving through the displays, all the way upstairs. He pushed Bokuto on the couch he’d found Kenma and Shoyo on, managing to look at least somewhat embarrassed about it.

Really, Kuroo looked out of his depth, unsure of how to go about this, but since entering the room, Kuroo hadn’t looked away again. Pushing his coat and scarf farther down the couch, Bokuto leaned back and rested on the back of the sofa. He didn’t know how long it took vampires to feed but he imagined he’d be here for a while.

He didn’t miss the heat of Kuroo’s gaze and the way he licked his lips as Bokuto messed with the hem of his shirt. He couldn’t decide whether or not to take it off so he pulled it away from his neck, cocking his head to the side in an imitation of his earlier position.

Apparently, it was a good choice. Once Bokuto settled, Kuroo clambered on top of him, his knees straddling Bokuto’s hips. One of his hands came up to caress Bokuto’s head while the other one rested on his left shoulder, pushing the material of the shirt away from his neck.

This close to Kuroo, Bokuto could see the red of his irises, all traces of brown melted away, but the hesitation was still there. When Kuroo opened his mouth to speak, his fangs sharpened and lengthened in inches. “Tell me, okay?”

“I will,” he rasped out, knowing Kuroo wouldn’t have done anything without verbal confirmation. Kuroo nodded back and buried his head in his neck, little black hairs tickling the sides of his face and the smell of Kuroo’s shampoo sweet and heady. 

In all honesty, Bokuto expected Kuroo to want to get it over with, just suck his blood and be done, but the tip of his cold nose trailed up and down the length of his neck, puffing warmer breaths against his skin.

Bokuto cleared his throat. “You’ve gotta lick it first. Helps it hurt less.”

Kuroo smiled against Bokuto’s neck, a laugh rumbling in his chest. “I remember. So your project was good for something, huh?”

Bokuto huffed a breathless laugh, gripping Kuroo’s hips. “It was good for a lot of things.”

Bokuto felt Kuroo’s smile widen before he pulled back altogether. He only had a second to protest before Kuroo used his grip in Bokuto’s hair to pull his head further to the side. All hesitation gone, he licked a hot stripe up the side of Bokuto’s neck and then sucked right underneath his jaw. Bokuto shuddered and pulled Kuroo closer by the waist, wet kisses trailing all the way back down.

“Good?” he asked, flexing his fingers.

“Great,” Bokuto breathed.

Bokuto’s only warning was a slight tightening of Kuroo’s fingers in his hair before he felt the wet heat from Kuroo’s mouth and a prick of pain. As Kuroo swallowed, his head rocked slightly forward and the swaying lulled his heart rate down.

He had no sooner started to feel a tingling in his fingers than Kuroo had begun to pull back. Kuroo licked over the mark probably in part to close it, but Bokuto knew the mark would still be there for a few days. Bokuto let out a deep sigh, and wiggled his fingers underneath Kuroo’s shirt, raking his nails up and down the soft hair on his back.

Kuroo pulled back up to look at him, concern tilting the edges of his mouth down, but his color was already starting to come back. Bokuto smiled at him and he eased a little, mouth open like he was debating what question to ask.

Now that he could, he traced the edge of one of Kuroo’s fangs with his thumb, carefully avoiding the pointy end. His fangs weren’t so big that they looked uncomfortable in his mouth; instead, they were long and pointy, like they would hang over his bottom lip if he closed his mouth. Which he couldn’t. Because Bokuto had a finger in his mouth.

Kuroo licked his thumb and just barely avoided pricking his finger. “Was that okay?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, a little drowsy. He traced the bottom of Kuroo’s other front teeth before pulling his thumb out of his mouth. Kuroo’s eyes were focused on him and back to their pretty copper color. His pupils still hadn’t contracted and Bokuto was too tired to ignore the desire to have Kuroo’s mouth on him again, this time a little higher up. “Can I kiss you?

Kuroo licked his bottom lip and swayed forward. “If you don’t mind the taste of blood, yeah.”

The jolt of pleasure down his spine reminded him that _no,_ he very much did _not_ mind. Bokuto brought his hands up to Kuroo’s sturdy shoulders and pulled him down into the kiss. Kuroo’s hand shifted to his cheek to better position himself, and it felt as though all heat had returned to an empty hearth. The blood travelled fast; Kuroo’s hand was warm and eased that warmth through Bokuto’s face and into his cheeks, melting him into the kiss.

Like his fingers, Kuroo’s lips were warm and soft, his fangs clacking against Bokuto’s for a second before tilting his head and adjusting. Bokuto felt all remnants of the outside weather melt away as he pulled Kuroo closer, slipping his hands underneath Kuroo’s shirt and digging his fingertips into the muscle of his back.

Bokuto did not hesitate when kissing Kuroo, diving in and dragging his tongue slowly over the same path his thumb made. The kiss tasted slightly metallic but more, really, unmistakably like _Kuroo_. The hands on his face shifted backwards into his hair and the nape of his neck, running his fingers through Bokuto’s stiffly gelled hair. He only had a second to mourn the loss of his very cool style before Kuroo tugged _just so_ and all thought was inevitably wiped from his brain. Bokuto eagerly explored Kuroo’s mouth, saving the best for last, but when his tongue made its way back to Kuroo’s fangs, Bokuto found them upsettingly back to their original size.

Bokuto pulled back with a groan. “Your fangs are gone.”

Kuroo huffed a breathless laugh into his shoulder. Though the sting of the mark had relatively faded, Kuroo had gained a newfound fascination with the two small dots. A hot, wet tongue licked over them again. “They only come out when I’m feeding. Or about to feed.”

Bokuto frowned heavier. “Then bite my tongue or something. I wanna taste them.”

“Weirdo. I’m not gonna hurt you to satisfy a kink.”

“You don’t care about me at all!” he protested, pulling away. Seated on the couch, he only really managed to shimmy into a supine position. Kuroo seized the opportunity and embraced him, nosing underneath Bokuto’s chin to kiss his throat. 

“My normal fangs aren’t good enough for you?”

“No.”

“Weirdo.”

Bokuto buried his smile into his discarded coat that was currently being used as a pillow, running his fingers through Kuroo’s soft jet-black hair. No way that cat wasn’t named after him.

The heat from Kuroo’s body and the gentle circles he rubbed into Bokuto’s hipbones reminded him of just how tired he was. He didn’t know if getting your blood drawn was like getting a concussion and you couldn’t sleep within a certain amount of hours but Bokuto didn’t care, the slow drag of Kuroo’s breathing lulling him to sleep.

Just before he could drift off, Bokuto snapped his eyes open. “Isn’t it weird that vegetarianism for vampires is the opposite of humans? Like, cows can’t consent to being sucked dry! Kuroo. Kuroo, think about it. Where are the animal’s rights activists?”

“Wearing turtlenecks.”

“I’m serious!”

“Bo, if you don’t chill I’m going to suck _you_ dry.”

“Hm.” Hm, hm, hm. _Hmmmmm_. “That was supposed to be threatening, but...”

“Oh my god. Shut up and kiss me.”

Bokuto was nothing if not a good listener. 

**Author's Note:**

> [this](https://www.instagram.com/p/CJWVJ_Wlfno/) is the instagram post and i'm on tumblr [here](https://uchiwaka.tumblr.com) !
> 
> thank u thank u to the Urban Fantasy Bang for letting me participate !! this was so much fuuun 
> 
> also this is gonna be a series bc i was peer pressured into it lol and the next one has already started to be written !! I'm pushing for it to be finished by the end of january !!!! also maybe a yoga fic 👀 tba


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